The judge, with René in his arms, ushered them inside.
“Welcome—to Wolfville!” he cried, “and to the old Godet house.”
Jack and Desiré stood quite speechless, and even the generally talkative Priscilla could find no words. They could only look while the judge and his housekeeper watched them smilingly, though very close to tears themselves.
René broke the spell.
“Oh—o—o!” he wailed, digging his fists into his eyes, still half asleep.
“What’s the matter—young fellow?” demanded the judge, who still held him.
“I didn’t finish my piece of cake!” wailed the child. He had dozed off at the table, before finishing his supper.
They all laughed, while Madam Lovemore consoled René by promising him another piece the next day. Then the young Wistmores inspected their home.
Partitions separated the cabin into three rooms: a large one, across one end, which was to do duty as a general living room, with a place for cooking at one end; and two small ones as sleeping quarters. The partitions and floors were painted a soft blue, which was relieved by the dark logs of the side walls and the beamed roof. Rag rugs lay upon the floor, a table occupied the centre of the living room, and around it were four ladder-back chairs. Beside the stone fireplace was a low wooden rocker and a high-backed upholstered one. Each bedroom had a fully furnished double wooden bed, and a wash stand. There was a bright fire in the fireplace; simple muslin curtains were hung at the windows; and a few pots of geraniums on a small stand added to the homelikeness of the place.
“But—the furniture—” began Desiré, when she was able to put her thoughts into words. Jack was still too dazed to speak.